McGonagall's Worst Nightmare
by sliz225
Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, Neville has a flashback about how Professor McGonangalls handles her students being tortured. Kinda depressing, but its my first fanfic, and I had no better ideas. major book seven spoilers. reviews appreciated!


"You had to use the Cruciatus Curse on people with detentions? That's horrible!" Hermione said. It was three days after the Battle of Hogwarts. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and Luna were relaxing on the sweeping green grounds of Hogwarts. Harry, Ron and Hermione were still catching up on all that they had missed while they were on the run.  
"It was kind of clever, you know? Your friend cursing you felt much worse than if the Carrows or Snape had inflicted the pain. It broke some people's spirits, having to cause their friends so much pain," Neville reminisced sadly.  
"I can't believe the teachers agreed to all this. What about Flitwick, McGonagalls, Sprout? I can't see any of them just allowing their students to be beat up," said Harry.  
"The Carrows threatened to summon Lord Voldemort," explained Ginny. "The teachers knew that if they resisted, You-Know-Who would have them killed and replaced by a Death Eater. Still, there were times when I thought the teachers would risk it. The Carrows made them watch the detentions, you know."  
Harry whistled. "They made the teachers _watch_? That must have really killed them."  
"You have no idea. Flitwick needed a constant supply of Calming Draught from Madam Pomfrey, or else he burst into tears every time he saw an injured student," Luna told them.  
"He wasn't the only one, either. Madam Pomfrey needed some Calming Draught herself when she found out that she wasn't allowed to Heal tortured students," Neville reminded her. "She used to smuggle us potions and balms and such, and Professor Flitwick secretly taught us some simple Healing Charms, but the teachers knew it wasn't nearly enough and it was really hurting them. Professor Sprout could barely look at me after the Carrows gave a particularly beating."  
"Wow. Sounds like it was hell for the teachers, too," Ron said, awed slightly.  
"Well, it was hell for all of us, but the teachers suffered pretty badly, it's true," said Neville. "There were times where students or her fellow teachers had to forcibly keep Professor McGonagalls from interfering when the Carrows got especially vicious. She really hated it . . ." He trailed off, remembering the day where he and his classmates had learned the depths of their teacher's agony . . .

Neville and his fellow Gryffindors had walked into their first class on Monday morning to find Professor McGonagalls snoring at her desk. There were some nervous giggles, but the students exchanged slightly panicked glances as they sat down. Nobody wanted to be the one to go and shake their exhausted teacher awake. They might have sat like that all period, had their teacher not begun moaning in her sleep.  
It was clear from the moment the noise started that Professor McGonagalls was in the grip of some terrible nightmare. Her face was contorted with terror at some horror only she could see, and her hands began to twitch nervously.  
"I suppose I had better wake her up, hadn't I?" suggested Neville uneasily as he edged out of his chair. The idea of actually grabbing and shaking his teacher out of her nightmare was terrifying, but he hated seeing his teacher like this. His fellow students nodded fervently, their eyes fixed on their pained teacher.  
Her moans turned to comprehensible murmurs. "Noooooo. Not the kids . . . please, not the kids . . . "  
Neville had a nasty suspicion that he knew what she was dreaming of. If he was correct, he had no desire to see how the rest of her dream played out. "Professor? _Please,_ wake up."  
"Not the kids! Not my students! Don't torture my students! PLEASE!"  
"_Professor!"_  
"_TORTURE ME INSTEAD!_ CRUCIATE ME, I'LL DO ANYTHING, JUST TORTURE ME INSTEAD OF THE STUDENTS!"  
"_PROFESSOR_!" Unable to bear it any longer, Neville leaned over and smartly slapped his teacher. She jerked awake abruptly.  
"I-what-where?" Her wild gaze fixed on Neville. "Ah. Neville." She pried herself of her desk with enormous effort, and looked around. "And the entire seventh year Gryffindor class. Lovely." She mopped sweat from her temple with the hem of her crumpled sleeve. "I'm sorry that I'm not terribly presentable. The torture-ah, that is, _detentions_-ran late last night. I must have fallen asleep at my desk." She stretched her sore muscles painfully. "Well, today we embark on the difficult and complex art of human-to-animal Transfiguration. If you open your textbooks to page 474, you'll see a diagram showing the process. Human-to-animal transformations should not be confused with Animagi. When an Animagi turns him- or her- self into an animal, they retain their full human consciousness and mind. Human-to-animal transformations, however . . ." She trailed off weakly, realizing that none of her students had moved to open their textbooks, or indeed, moved at all. The were staring at her with a mixture of pity, concern, horror, and sadness. "Was I-ah-crying out in my sleep when you came in?" she asked delicately. They nodded mutely. "And could you . . . understand what I was saying?" They nodded again.  
"It's really hurting you too, isn't it?" said Neville sadly. His teacher stared at him in confusion. "Those evil Carrows and their detentions. Making you watch while they hurt your students-they couldn't have come up with a worse form of punishment."  
Professor McGonagalls opened her mouth intending to lie and reassure her class that everything was fine, that she had just had a silly dream, and that their plight had nothing to do with her private agony. Instead, she made an odd choking sound, sank back in her chair, and buried her head in her hands. Her shoulders shook, and her class realized-to their horror-that their teacher was sobbing. Neville, who was closest, summoned up his courage to awkwardly pat his professor on her back. "It's all right professor, honestly. It's not that bad . . . really . . . we're okay . . . " He was fully aware how pathetic his reassurances sounded.  
"No, it's bloody _not_ okay," sniffed Professor McGonagalls, beginning to sound like her old self. "Students-_my _students! _my _responsibility!-are being beat up and tortured every other week by those two monsters, and I just sit there and watch! What kind of teacher lets the Cruciatus Curse be used on her students? What sort of teacher just _watches_ while her students are forced to use horrible Dark curses on one another?"  
"A sensible one," Neville answered firmly. "If you tried to stop them, they would summon Lord Voldemort, and he would have you killed and replaced with another Death Eater. Then we would have a _third _teacher who is willing beat us up for so much as blinking defiantly. Staying here and keeping us safe is a much better for everyone."  
"Keeping you safe," said Professor McGonagalls derisively. She fiercely wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "As if I've been doing such a great job of that so far." She laughed bitterly. Her students had never seen her like this, all cold and sharp-edged and bitter. She controlled herself with an effort and sighed. "I'm sorry, class. I shouldn't be sharing my private woes with you. You shouldn't have to listen to me go on like this. I know that what little resistance I can put up here is better than no resistance at all, but it's hard to remember that when Colin Creevey is screaming for mercy and-" Her voice started to shake, and she cut herself off.  
"We _are_ legally adults, and we do have the right to resist the Carrows even if it gets us hurt," pointed out Seamus, a touch defensively. "You can't order us not to."  
"Oh, I wouldn't do that," his professor said immediately. "I know what you're doing is important, and I wouldn't try to stop you. Still . . . when I think of what you all are going through . . ." She looked like she was in danger of tears again, but controlled herself once more. "You were right Neville. With all their experience in the Dark Arts, I doubt the Carrows could hurt me worse. This truly is my worse nightmare . . ."

Neville shuddered just _remembering_ the terrible class. He never wanted to see his proud, strong teacher like that again. "Yes . . ." he said contemplatively. "This year was as bad on the teachers as it was on us. If not worse . . ."


End file.
